The Nightingale
by Just Nario
Summary: Why does the Nightingale sing? The tale of a young, insignificant student at Xavier's. Chapter 3: Past and present. Friends and foes. And the Wolverine's sick idea of detention.
1. Lilliputian Stick Figure

**The Nightingale**

Disclaimer: I don't own X-Men, and I'm not making any money off this. I do, however accept payment in the form of cookies and miscellaneous chocolate-coated items. On with the story...

**1**

**Lilliputian Stick Figure**

_"Can you see them?" _

_"Yeah" _

_"What are they doing?" _

_"I dunno. Seems like talking." _

_"Wait here." _

_My jaunty sidekick obeyed. I couldn't see his face; it was very dark in there. In there. Where were we again? I stepped into the house as quietly as I could, my hand reaching instinctively for the light switch. How did I find it so easily? My fingers walked through the plastic and pushed, but the lighting didn't change; it remained pitch black. Damn. I walked confidently up the stairs, but I didn't know exactly what I was doing. _

_It seemed to be the right thing for the situation. But what was the situation? God, I keep forgetting these things. _

_I knew it was my job to investigate. If things went awry, my faithful sidekick would take over, which basically meant that he would call headquarters announcing the impending doom of his mentor. _

A sticky tune began playing, featuring a high-pitched female singer.

_I instantly ducked, my fist clenched and my eyes fixed on the source of the music: a lonely door at the end of the staircase, made of mahogany with many intricate designs carved on its surface, and light filtering through its borders. I could hear their voices mixing with the odd melody. They were, indeed, talking. _

_I took a deep breath and stepped in front of the door. I could feel it already filling me, but I was nervous. Finally, with my knuckles white from the clenching, I opened it. _

_"Get him!" _

_But it was too late. I smiled as my hands were spread open in the direction of the first two, arcs of electricity cracking from my fingertips and rendering them useless. I could feel the power. _

A hideously screeching sound reached my ears.

_Damn, an alarm was triggered. I cursed as brilliant spheres of plasma began forming in my hands, only to be hurled at the bastard who triggered it. I felt a scratch on the back and turned, laughing. To my attacker's misfortune, I was also invulnerable to physical pain, oh and super-strong. An effortless jab was enough to send him flying across the room. I ducked as the lights began flickering; it really set me off-balance. I could hear the steps of hundreds climbing up the stairs, but the cursed lights didn't stop flickering. They drew closer… _

_Shit! _

And then I woke up, finding the alarm clock ringing wildly and Gwen Stefani singing annoyingly to one of her songs on the radio on the other side of the room. I moaned something senseless and rolled to one side, moaning some more while building a stronghold of blankets around me. I hoped it to be sound-proof but, much to my distaste, it wasn't.

"'Eter zuhn'em off" I managed to say from the depths of my blanket fort.

From the other side of the room came the voice of my roommate. "What?"

He sounded very clear, probably woke up long ago. I, unfortunately, had never been a morning person and articulation didn't come easily when it was still dark outside. I slid the blankets from my head a little and opened my eyes a crack, groaning again and wishing I had just left them closed. The white lights of the room nearly blinded me; and I had no choice but to go back inside my blanket cocoon.

"Zurn da' goddamn thing off" I repeated in muffled frustration, unable to ignore the sonic attacks from the radio and the alarm clock.

He laughed. "Cm'on" he said with that weirdly accented voice of his "You gonna be late for Slim's class"

God I hated Slim.

"Damn Peter, just put them off, I'll get up in five" I said angrily. I was pretty much awake now, but I didn't want to leave the bed yet.

I finally heard him mutter something and then it stopped. Ah, peace. I smiled and curled even more, letting the warmth of my bed embrace me once again. Soon my eyelids grew heavier and my body felt numb… _It was good to be ba_--

"Aaah!" I gasped in terror as an extreme and sudden chill filled my body, quickly springing out of the bed. And, while I shook uncontrollably, the enormous guy I shared the dorm with stood on the doorway accompanied by a much smaller teenager of short blond hair and blue eyes. They were both laughing their eyes off, and I couldn't help but laugh too. Or maybe it was an involuntary shiver from the cold.

"You're a dead man Drake!"

I then proceeded to chase Bobby Drake through the mansion, but the giggle wave that grew once we reached the girls' wing made me notice I was wearing nothing but boxer shorts. And so began a new fascinating day in Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters.

**

* * *

**

Piotr Nikolaievitch Rasputin, or Peter as most knew him, had been my roommate since I first came to the Institute; shared interests and convenience quickly turned us into close friends. Almost three years had passed from that and I still couldn't get over the feminine attention he received while walking through the school's hallways, so moving beside him was extremely annoying. His mutation made him look bigger, older and stronger- well, he was stronger- than most guys of the same age, and I griped to myself about how much of a lilliputian stick figure I must have looked next to him, even being a year older.

Still, I didn't really have anything more interesting to do after class, so I agreed when he challenged me to a game of pickup basketball.

"So how did it go with Slim?" he asked while we walked down the stairs, his hands hidden under the bags of his sweater. His ever present Russian accent wasn't missing.

"Terrible" I responded, sulking. "I don't think I'll make it if I keep failing Math."

Peter shrugged, and said "Well you need to catch up unless you want to spend the summer with him."

"A summer with Summers," I added grudgingly. "Anyhow, I saw in the morning news they found another criminal gang trapped in giant webbing last night."

Peter arched a brow, "Spider-man?"

I nodded triumphantly. "No doubt about it! I mean, do they need more evidence?"

"I wonder if it's a mutant" said Peter lost in thought for a moment.

"Definitely," I said. "I saw those drawings you made of him; they're pretty cool, and accurate."

"How do you know?" he asked after waving jadedly to a pack of girls standing by the lounge doorway. They received his response with an excited giggle, although Peter didn't notice.

"I saw some pictures in UFO Lookout, you wouldn't believe how genui-"

"Oh, please."

My keen answer was interrupted by the mocking voice of a short, skinny brunette with small hazel eyes. Beside her, a beautiful girl with clear Asian features and deep blue eyes laughed loudly at her friend's sarcastic remark. Normally I wouldn't notice a girl's clothing, but the latter was wearing a scandalous yellow duster that would have caught anyone's attention. Just when did they start following us?

"Everyone knows Spider-man doesn't exist" said the brunette giggling. "Like, it's an urban legend or something."

Kitty Pride's comments never ceased to amaze me; I decided not to argue with her this time. "Hello Kitty, Jubilee," I greeted with an improvised smile. Peter just waved and mumbled something that sounded like 'hey'.

Jubilee wiggled the fingers of her raised left hand in a silly form of waving and Kitty's stare, which had been placed on Peter the whole time, turned to acknowledge me.

"Oh, hello Alex!" she said. "Everyone's talking about your underwear, who would've guessed _you_ had a taste for fashion?"

I laughed nervously while my face burned from embarrassment and panic, and quickly uttered "What kind of sane person sees fashion in underwear? I always thought it was supposed to go under."

Jubilee laughed, but Kitty only rolled her eyes. "Anyways, I was wondering if I could talk to you for a moment, Peter," she said merrily staring at him, and she quickly added "Umm… alone."

The squared teenager turned to stare at me gravely. "I, uhh…" he muttered scratching the back of his head.

I froze for a moment. It was one thing to be regarded as invisible when I walked next to Peter, but it was the first time that someone actually hinted me to leave the scene altogether. "Oh- I umm…" I looked at Peter, then Kitty and finally Jubilee, but it was clear that she wasn't going anywhere. Awestruck and angry at the same time, I managed to speak, "It's okay I'll just go…" my eyes quickly scanned the area for an excuse of a less humiliating runaway. "The restroom" I said half-smiling, and walked away.

**

* * *

**

I stared at myself for several minutes in the mirror. I mean, seriously, what was wrong with me? A very slim, short teenager with olive eyes, light brown nose-length hair and slightly bronzed skin stared back at me. Maybe my nose was too big; that's what they say about Italians anyway. I inclined my face to watch my own profile. I might have been wrong, but my nose seemed quite normal… probably a bit broad. Perhaps my lack of an intriguing foreign accent? Even when I grew up in a full Italian home with a full Italian family, my spoken English was pretty average.

Still annoyed, I scowled at my own reflection and hopped on the sinks, pulling out a smoke and lighting it. I heard the flushing of a toilet after I took the first drag, but I didn't actually care to hide it. Junior accusations mattered little to me at the moment.

The toilet door opened and I looked away, careless. I didn't like to smoke in front of people, always thought it to be rude and inconsiderate, but I didn't know he was in there to begin with; nor did I care.

"I'll burn the shit off you if you tell anyone tha-"

What I saw standing at the toilet door made my heart fall to my feet. An overly hairy, brooding character carrying a mossy brown jacket over his shoulder and a roll of newspaper on the other stared at me with a thick arched eyebrow.

"Oh, really?" he asked mordantly as he moved to the sink.

I seriously considered eating the lit cigarette to swiftly eliminate the critical evidence; but it would've been too obvious… I needed to stay calm. What was I thinking? I couldn't stay calm after threatening one of the adults! And not just any adult!

I had just threatened the one adult I was advised not to mess with.

"Mister Logan, I'm terribly sorry" I said stepping down on the floor again. I thought he was heading in my direction but he turned at the last second to wash his hands on the sink. "I didn't know- I thought it was- I couldn't-"

"What's your name?" he asked harshly without turning to look at me.

"I uhh…" I thought of the possibility of making a name up, but my mind was blank, I had no choice but to answer the truth. "Alex."

"Your full name," he demanded, this time turning to glare at me as he did.

This was it. I was toast. Logan was going to report me to Slim, Ms. Munroe or maybe even the Professor himself… What kind of inhuman punishment was waiting? I looked away, at the urinals, at myself in the reflection and at the door, wishing to be swallowed into the floor.

Giving up, I responded. "Alessandro Bianco."

"I'm Logan, without the _mister_" he said indifferently offering a hand.

I flinched away and dropped the cigarette on the floor. What sorcery was this? I shook his hand while looking at him warily.

"You know, smoking, bad stuff. Kills you in the head" he said poking the side of his head with his left index finger while reaching into the pocket of his jacket with the other hand.

I wanted to make a witty remark of how I thought smoking killed you in the lungs, not the head, but something inside me reminded me who I was talking to. I was playing with fire.

"See that?" he said pointing at a white plastic circle resting on the wall above the mirrors. Pulling out a cigar and a box of matches, he added "Next time you might want to check if there are any smoke detectors in the room."

I nodded slowly as he turned away to the door. Once Logan was out of sight, I leaned on the sink and took a deep breath. It felt like I just lowered my shoulders from some kind of eternal shrug. I looked at myself in the mirror and grinned.

"Oh, and Alex" said Logan opening the door again. "Look for me tomorrow after class for detention."

_Sigh._

_

* * *

_

Next chapter: A glimpse at Alex's past. 

Comments: Notice that the first few lines were just Alex's wild imagination, his mutation is not yet revealed. Reviews are always welcome!_  
_

* * *


	2. Foundation of Trouble

Yodaesque Disclaimer: X-Men I don't own.

Kudos to: Absolut Cajun, for teh first review! I hope you enjoy this part of the story.

**2**

**The Foundation of Trouble**

Lexington, Nebraska.

Three years earlier.

Slender fingers caressed the frame of a picture sitting on top of a computer monitor. Jessica Saenz stared at her own image tossing its arms around a short, slim boy with curly light brown hair, a wide smile on their faces. She jumped when the door was swung open and closed so furiously that the walls trembled, sending several comic-book posters to the floor. The boy from the picture, now a young man dressed in a dull black suit, leaned on the closed door and slowly sat down right there on the carpeted floor.

"How's your brother?" asked Jessica looking worriedly at her boyfriend from the place she was standing on, but she received no answer from him. Sitting down on the bed, she said "I don't like it when you smoke."

Alex frowned, and said limply "It eases the headaches."

There was a moment of silence, which they spent staring at each other. The smoke from the cigarette on the young man's hand formed coiling and twisting snakes between them.

"So, what Enzo said is true, huh?" he uttered finally, sliding his left foot towards his body and placing his arm on the raised knee.

"I'm sorry, Alex" she said with a bleak look. "He knew all the time—?"

"He knew long enough" he answered abruptly. "Jessica, when were you planning to tell me?"

Jessica hesitated, then said "It was difficult. I wanted to tell you Alex, I really did. You didn't deserve thi—"

"Deserve what, exactly?" he interrupted her, squeezing the lit remains of the cigarette with his right hand. Scoffing bitterly, he raised his voice to an angry, trembling bawl "To find out in the day of mama's funeral? The whole fucking town knew about you and Gary!"

There was a rage in Alex's voice, under which the girl cringed. Jessica could swear she felt the air get heavier as the young man's olive eyes brimmed over with tears of anger. Alex seemed to notice this, because he lowered his head in pain and regret at the girl's reaction.

"Jessica," he said. "I'm… really sorry" shaking, he pushed his hands against his temples. "You'd think I wouldn't give a damn about it after what happened to my mother. Seems so small and hollow doesn't it? But I do Jess, I wish I didn't feel anything but I do. You were one of the few reasons to stay strong today."

Jessica looked down at the carpet. She felt so guilty and sorry as she saw how her once geeky and charmingly sarcastic boyfriend was reduced to a miserable, shaking lump on the floor. His emotional pain seemed to be too physical; the sick color on Alex's skin and the thin layer of cold sweat forming above it scared her, but she couldn't think of anything helpful to say.

Alex took notice of her worried stare, and tried to pull himself together. "Don't worry. It's just a headache. So much has happened in the last few days, these headaches just keep getting... worse" he painfully slammed his fist on the door when the last word was pronounced.

"Oh my god!" said Jessica jumping off the bed, horrified.

"Calm down, I didn't mean to—" he was interrupted by the shrill squealing of rubber against pavement and a very loud crash. "What was that?" he said moving to the window.

"Your eyes!—" Horror-struck, Jessica let out a shriek when he moved closer. "Get away from me!" She thrust him forward in desperation and ran out of the room as fast as she could

With a dry thump, Alex fell over flatly. "Jessica, I didn't mean to yell at you!" he said standing up and running after her. Nothing could have prepared him for what he saw once he reached the end of the staircase.

"Oh, god…" he exclaimed.

The whole lower floor of his house was covered in curtains of fog so thick, that vision beyond a foot was nearly impossible. He tried to look down on his hands, but all he could see was a shadow.

"Brother!" said a wobbly shadow inside the whiteness.

Trembling, Alex exclaimed "Enzo! Are you okay?"

"Brother, what's happening!"

Alex didn't answer, because he couldn't describe what he was feeling. For a few seconds it was as if he could touch everything around him, he knew exactly where everything and everyone in various street blocks was, in spite of the mist. This made his head hurt more than ever. With an alarmed look, he ran to the doorway and yelled with all his strength "Jessica, look out!"

And on the streets, everyone could hear a girl's scream and the now familiar sound of tires screeching. In terror, Alessandro Bianco realized that his head had stopped aching.

* * *

A few months later. 

It was nearing noon and the Principal was growing anxious. He sat down for the fifth time after staring tensely at the window for minutes, opening the gray folder that sat alone on his desk to read its contents once again. Most of it managed to slip through his brain without leaving the slightest trace of meaning; but a few sentences had caught his attention from the first glance, and the term _Homo sapiens superior_ was on the top of the list.

A female voice on the speakerphone said "Mr. Evans, Enzo Bianco is here."

"Send him in."

Through the door walked a young man dressed in street clothes, carrying a blue bag behind his shoulder. He was tall for his age, Mr. Evans observed, lean and solid. Not football star solid, but certainly not on the scrawny side. Straight lines of dirty blond hair fell over his forehead touching his nose— a broad nose— and his eyes were partially shielded by semi-clear glasses that changed shading with the sunlight.

"You wanted to see me, Mr. Evans?" he asked.

"Yes, please sit Mr. Bianco" The principal motioned to one of the chairs in front of his desk, but Enzo was sitting already. "It has been brought to my attention that the works you have been presenting lately are, yet again, causing quite a bit of controversy amongst teachers and students alike."

Enzo stared at him with a quirked eyebrow. "I don't understand."

The principal flipped the folder open and said, "Your essays, Mr. Bianco. Every single free-topic paper you have delivered to your teachers in the past few months, while proficiently written, it's about mutants."

"Still, I don't see the problem of exploring actual social phenomena in paper."

"Are you trying to impress me, Mr. Bianco?"

"Not at all."

"Good. It should remain clear who has the PhD in this room and thus, the authority and maturity to deal with these... scandals." Enzo wanted to laugh so hard he thought he would blow up at any moment. Thankfully the principal was too busy re-reading the contents on that folder to notice this. "Do we really need detailed descriptions of diverse mutant physiology? And this one here describes the feeling a particular mutant has when displaying its abilities—"

"His or her abilities" the young man corrected. "Mutants are people, Mr. Evans, not things."

"Ah, but that's not what this other one says. Here you emphasize the supremacy of mutants above normal people."

"If you read further you'll see I was trying to make a point—"

"A point this school does not care about" the principal interrupted severely. "Tell me, Mr. Bianco… Are you a mutant?"

"That's none of your business."

"Yes, it is. This is a high-prestige private school, Mr. Bianco. We can't afford to have mutants among our students… or mutant-supporters for that matter. I'm afraid if this behavior continues, you will face expulsion."

Enzo rose up in exasperation. "That's bullshit!"

"May I remind you who are you speaking to, Mr. Bianco?"

"Don't bother" he said tossing the bag around his shoulder. "I'm out."

"Understand my position Mr. Bianco!" shouted the principal, but the young man had already stormed out of the office. Once alone, he hurriedly picked the phone, pressing one of the many quick dial buttons.

"Sir?" he whispered. "I think I found one."

…

Alex was standing out of school, waiting for his younger brother. Minutes earlier, he had been looking everywhere without any luck until finally, one of his friends told him he had been summoned to the principal's office. What kind of trouble was Enzo in this time? Last time he got called for publishing one of his essays on the school boards, which got graded with a B. The problem was that it was nothing but seven pages of nonsense under a fancy title and an opening and ending paragraph, proving that his Spanish teacher didn't even bother to read their essays.

Taking a quick look at his clock, he took a long drag of the cigarette he was holding and tossed it away at the sight of his brother exiting the building. The provoked look on his face and his long, quick strides would've been enough to scare any normal human being from nearing him, but his brother had been growing used to it. Also, he was no normal human being.

"Hey" mumbled Alex joining his brother's march. The look on his face told him he wasn't going to get an answer, so the only thing he could do was keep walking. It was hard to keep up with his irritated strides.

Once the school was out of sight and there was no one close enough to hear them, Enzo stopped abruptly and stared at his older brother, who was shorter than him by a head. It had been like that since they entered puberty but, while most people found this amusing, their ages differed only by a year. Their mother used to cheer up Alex by telling him he wasn't done 'stretching' yet.

"What's wrong man?" inquired Alex.

"I got me out of school."

"You got suspended again?"

"No. It's for good this time."

"You mean—?"

"Yeah."

"Damn. Papa will be pissed. What did you do?"

"I said I was out. Listen," he said pulling his brother into a nearby alley, where there was nothing but a pond of extremely unpleasant smell. "I think Evans is up to something."

"The principal?"

"Yeah. He was trying to make me say I was a mutant."

"But you're not!"

"I know! But what if he calls you too?"

Alex looked down to his hands, sighing. Since that day in his house, when without knowing he enclosed the whole neighborhood in fog, there hadn't been any incidents to expose him as a mutant. The only ones who knew he had been responsible were his brother and Jessica, but the girl apparently had no recollection of the incident in his room after she was hit by a car while trying to desperately escape his house. Apart from a light white haze surrounding his house when he slept, his mutant powers had remained inactive. But he didn't know how or when they would kick in again. His brother had a point.

"So, what are you saying? Should I get out too?"

"Maybe. I don't know" said Enzo sulking. "I wouldn't want you to be exposed because of my fault…"

Before they could react to it, from the other end of the alley came a third, faded voice. "Hmm, so we were after the wrong one."

"What? Gary?" Alex recognized his ex-girlfriend's new boyfriend pointing at them, but behind him were three strangers: identical men dressed in dark business suits, their eyes covered by square mirrored shades. They looked like bodyguards.

"Yes… Gary, whatever. You, the short one, you're coming with us to answer a few questions" said Gary boringly.

Alex looked worriedly at his brother, then stepped forward in an childlike, yet smug manner "What the hell are you talking about?" He tried to remain calm. The last thing he wanted was a cloud forming out of nowhere.

"Don't toy with me, kid" He made a discrete hand sign and the three bodyguards stuck their hands into their coats at the same time. "We need you to come with us for a—"

"Run!" said Enzo, and Alex didn't think about it twice. They started running to the opposite end of the alley as fast as they could, and Alex could hear the firing of what could have possibly been a handgun, but when the shot missed both of them, he didn't dare to turn back for confirmation.

"Don't shoot you idiot, we need him conscious!" yelled Gary furiously. Sighing jadedly, he said "Go get him" and the three identical bodyguards dashed to follow the brothers.

Gary leaned on a wall with a sigh. They always ran, he had said, but no one ever listened. "He ran with the brother" he confirmed to the tip of a wire attached to the left sleeve of his jacket. "Madrox is after him. We might need you after all; I don't know how long we have."

* * *


	3. Split Personality

Goth Disclaimer: I stare at the moonlight as cold as the skin it touches. I yearn for your blood sliding down... this is getting disgusting. I don't own x-men. Oh, the sorrow.

Kudos to: Independent Fire, Absolut Cajun, maxtreme225 and Amber Butterfly! I am really glad that you are enjoying the story, and I hope you like this chapter. I struggled a lot with this one, really. It made me take the story to a completely different direction, hopefuly for the best.

**3**

**Split Personality**

Westchester County, New York

Now.

"What kind of detention is that?"

"Look kid, I was looking for some cheap help here, if you can't make yourself useful you can just go and—"

"No, that's fine… I already missed the freaking trip to the planetarium anyways."

"You know what? Forget it."

It had been a whole day since my unfortunate meeting with Logan. Yesterday I learned that he had just arrived from one of his trips to Canada. I also found out that Kitty wanted to invite Peter to the movies and according to her, Jubilee was supposed to do the same with me, but she shied away at the last minute. The whole situation made me feel exceptionally stupid when it turned out to be a 'group thing' in which Bobby Drake, Rogue, John Allerdyce and Tracy Cassidy were also involved. John drove us to the city at sunset and we had a very good time at the theater. It was hell to wake up today.

"Hey, wait up!" I tossed the remote and ran out of the deserted lounge after Logan, who was apparently heading to the garage.

"What do you want?" he grunted.

"There's nothing good on the T.V."

"Go get a girlfriend."

"I would try to, but she's at the planetarium with… heh, everyone else…"

Logan muttered something incoherent and just kept walking. I did the same and followed him, since I actually had nothing better to do. I was intrigued about seeing this 'classic model' of an automobile he described earlier, and about finding out what he meant with 'rescuing the engine'. Of course, I was a mechanical illiterate, but that was a completely different matter.

None of us talked until we arrived at the garage, where a monstrosity parked at the outer part of the first garage exit awaited. The twisted metal bulk laying there showcased burns all over, it was missing tires and it could have been upside down. How the thing had been moved was beyond me. "What the hell is that?"

"What does it look like?" Logan moved next to it and managed to open something that resembled a hood.

"Honestly? An enormous toaster that was used to play soccer."

"Very funny" he said sticking his head into the… well, one of the many cracks in the structure. "You didn't seem that witty yesterday, you know."

I plucked my hands into my pockets and started to walk around the tarnished truck, while The Wolverine took a dive in the hole he was inspecting. "Well you scared the hell out of me" I said trying to guess where the passenger seats had been. "Also; I didn't know you're not actually a teacher, you know… you can't even place me in detention!"

"And you're here because…" came Logan's muffled voice from the insides of the wrecked vehicle. There was a clacking sound and oil began spilling under it, forming a large pond that I failed to notice until it was too late.

"I don't really know…" I said staring miserably at my sneakers. "Hey isn't it dangerous in there with all that twisted metal?"

"Stop slacking and go get my tools, I think I left them on the porch."

"Main?"

"Huh?"

"Big door?"

"Yeah."

Since my sneakers were now drenched in oil, I had to take a run through the gardens to avoid staining the floors of the mansion. I found Logan's toolbox when I finally got to the porch, but I also found a man. He was a robust guy wearing an elegant blue suit, with medium brown hair and the unkempt beard of a few days shading the lower part of his face. I couldn't see his eyes very well behind the squared eyeglasses he was wearing, and also because he was leaning down on the base of a statue looking unbelievably sick. He might have just puked.

"Umm…" I said getting a bit closer. "Can I help you?"

"Yes," he turned to regard me and lifted himself, trying to seem calm. But he failed miserably, he looked like hell. "My name is Henry McCoy. I'm looking for Professor Charles Xavier."

"I'm afraid he's out for the day" I responded eyeing him slyly. It wasn't polite to stare at people but man, this guy was really bad. His skin was literally colorless. "Hey you should come inside… oh god, is that blood?"

The man had vomited a river of blood! His body arched painfully before collapsing. I managed to hold him up for a few moments, preventing him from hitting the floor, but the man was really heavy and I ended up in the floor with him. My clothes were soaked in blood.

" Logan!" I yelled with all my strength. "Help, there's this man puking blood—!"

"Lo… Lorna" said the man with a great effort.

"What?" I asked leaning closer. "What the hell is a lordna?" Out of the corner of my eye I saw Logan running berserk towards us with three metal prongs popping out of each fist. I immediately looked at the mumbling man on top of me and all the blood on the floor.

"NO! Wait, wait, wait!" I said waving a hand in front of me. "He's sick! He's dying!"

"What?" asked Logan popping the claws back in. "Who is this guy?"

"He was here, he's looking for the Professor" Logan lifted the man off me with an absurd ease. "His name is Henry. He said something like lordna before passing out."

"Lordna?"

"Know what that is?" I asked helping myself up.

"No" he said walking to the front entrance, looking around idly for a moment. "But there's someone else…" His nostrils started twitching disturbingly fast before going into the mansion. "In the car… A girl."

I looked around, clueless. There didn't seem to be a car anywhere near, and it was clear daylight. "What car?"

"Down the road a few miles" said Logan dumping the unconscious Henry McCoy on a couch in the lounge. "I'll go get her, you… call someone."

"Someone?" I grabbed one of the phones as Logan rushed out, leaving me in the lounge covered in oil and blood with the unconscious body of a man I didn't know anything about.

* * *

Lexington, Nebraska

The past.

Alex and Enzo ran for numerous blocks. People, cars and buildings blurred past them as they made their way through the streets and, though they failed to notice it, their chase became quite a distraction to drivers and pedestrians. They weren't thinking where they were going; all they knew was that they needed to get away from Gary and his armed bodyguards at all costs. When they reached the outsides of a known shopping mall, Alex turned to see if they were still after them but, to his relief, no darkly dressed figures could be seen roaming the open part of the parking lot.

"I think we've lost them" said Enzo. "We need to hide."

Alex nodded. "Let's go in."

The brothers made their way through the car labyrinth, dodging people who were carrying at least double their weight in shopping bags and roaming vehicles that followed them to claim their parking space. Imagining how agitated they must have looked, Alex took out a small towel from his bag and began wiping the droplets of sweat on his face as they entered the enormous glass doors. The air changed from an intense hot to soothingly cool in a second, and he felt a great deal of relief to be surrounded by all those people and security personnel.

"Who are those guys?" asked Alex, panting. "And what the hell is Gary doing?"

"I don't know" replied Enzo. They began walking through an enormous lobby with many small fashion shops arranged on both of its sides, swarming packs of young people coming in and out of them. Just ahead could be seen a beautiful circular fountain, which marked one of the shopping mall's 'resting' points.

"Could it be…?"

"What?"

"Evans." Alex lowered his voice to a mere whisper that barely surfaced from the collective babble. "You said he asked if you were a mutant; that he was looking for a confirmation. Gary then said that they were after the wrong one. That means they were after you; until he heard us talking somehow. It can't be coincidental."

Enzo suddenly felt something very cold sliding down his spine. He stopped abruptly in front of the fountain with a sickened stare. It struck him right on the face. "Then it's my entire fault, isn't it?"

"Man, don't say that" said Alex. The younger sibling didn't move, and his eyes escaped from Alex's in shame. "Hey, listen. I gave you that information willingly. It shouldn't have been this way; it's not your fault."

"But it is" said Enzo dropping himself on a bench limply. "It _is_ this way and we knew it. This place we live in… It kills me that people like you, brother, will never be able to live peacefully without having to conceal who they really are. Not on this lifetime anyway."

"Not on this lifetime? I never thought I'd hear you say that" said Alex sitting beside his brother. "You know; ever since we were kids, I have never; not once, been able to understand your mad behavior." Enzo tilted his head forward and chuckled at the comment. "No, seriously. Like that one time when you had the kids from the whole block organize a strike against old Cortés, remember? Everyone was just sitting on his front lawn yelling nonsense." They both laughed. It was an amazing event to remember. And this was the first time, Alex realized, they had a talk like this since their mother passed away. His eyes started to itch a little; was he going to cry now? "See, I wouldn't have done that. I would've just accepted the fact that Cortés was an old coot and moved on. It was just… what was it? A ball wasn't it?

But you can't move on. You don't let go of things that matter to you. That's what makes us different, brother. That's what makes you who you are. I know you won't let go of this now, will you?"

Enzo forced himself to sketch a smile that faded away almost instantly. "Man, you really need to chill" he said looking around anxiously.

"Why? I'm not going all corny am I?" asked Alex mockingly.

"No" whispered Enzo. "Your eyes are whitening again."

"Oh, shit!" Alex tilted his head forward and started rubbing his eyes roughly with both of his hands, hoping to rub the whiteness off. "Had to be now of all times."

"Put these on" said Enzo taking his lightly shaded eyeglasses off and handing them to his brother, who grabbed them hurriedly and covered his eyes. "Do you feel anything weird?"

"My eyes tickle" responded Alex. "See anything out of the ordinary?"

Enzo gave the surroundings a glance. The people walking by threw curious stares at Alex, who continued to curve down with his head resting on the palms of his hands. "No, no clouds" he answered and placed a hand on Alex's shoulder. "Just Relax. There are lots of people here."

"That's not helping" said Alex in a stressed out manner. Standing up, he added "I'm just gonna go to the bathroom 'til it's over"

Enzo tossed his brother an uneasy stare. "Alex!"

He stopped and glanced back.

"I won't give up on this" he said with the hint of a smile on his face.

Alex simply nodded and resumed his walk. Everything just fell to the bottom of his priorities when he knew something weird was about to happen to him again. He stumbled through the corridor making his best effort to reach the restrooms without taking his eyes off the floor, feeling so ashamed of people seeing them that he'd rather had them thinking he was some drunk looking for a place to throw up. Once inside; after giving a quick look around, he went right to the mirrors and inspected his reflection, taking Enzo's shades off. A muffled gasp was all that could leave his lips.

In the past months he would often wake up to find the remains of a light white screen covering each of his eyes, with the faint shade of olive pupils beneath it. But that day was different. His eyes weren't only _whitening again_; no, his eyes were **glowing**, and the olives where nowhere to be seen. He moved closer and pulled the skin off his left eye as much as he could._ How the hell can I see through this? _White steam skidded from under his eyelids, abandoning the orbs as if they were the burning head of a match, and he couldn't help a curious finger reaching for touch.

He soon discovered that his eyes weren't exactly glowing, but instead were covered by a thick glowing vapor that kept emanating from somewhere on the inside. _What the…?_ When he rubbed a fingertip against it, the steam dissipated showing his eyes in full normality below, but it immediately returned to fill its former place. He rubbed again. Again. And again. By the tenth time, his eyes seemed to glow more intensely. _God! Why is this happening to me?_

The door was swung open suddenly, and Alex was forced to put the sunglasses back on. He did it very swiftly closing his eyes tightly in fear of being seen, and he failed to realize just who was standing at the door.

"Hey I was just… are you all right man?" Enzo moved closer, but Alex motioned him away.

"I… I'm fine" he said. But he was obviously lying. It was the most disgusting, abnormal thing he had seen in his whole life, and it was crawling in his eye sockets. He felt the sudden urge to throw up right where he was, and the stench wasn't helping at all. That smell. It was strikingly similar to the pond of filth from that alley where Gary found them.

"Are you sure?" Enzo stepped forward. "You look sick."

Alex extended his left arm in an effort to try and keep his brother from coming too close. "Please," he said. "Don't come any closer."

"We better get outta here" said Enzo motioning to the door with his head. He had to push his glasses back up after they started slipping down his nose.

"You… had a new pair?" asked Alex, ignoring Enzo's last comment.

"Eh?" Enzo lifted an eyebrow. "Pair of what?"

Alex took the nearly translucent shades off his eyes and examined them absentmindedly. Since when was Enzo eccentric enough to carry a second pair of the exact same glass model?

"Man…" exclaimed Enzo staring at his now bare glowing, steaming eyes for a moment "Let's just… let's get out of here."

"Out of here!" yelled out Alex, his voice breaking. He turned back to the mirror, and speaking to Enzo's reflection, he continued. "Don't you see me Enzo? How long do you think I'll be able to pass as normal with my eyes spitting bright smoke, eh?"

Enzo shrugged. "Well you can't just stay here forever; someone will come in any minute now."

"You do have a point, as usual" said Alex sulkily. "I just wish I _knew_ how to turn it off…" He scrutinized his mirror image once again before leaning down to splash some water on his face. "Did you feel bad when you told me about Jessica in Papa's funeral?" he asked quietly, addressing Enzo's reflection.

Enzo looked down for a moment, and answered. "Yeah. I regret it now."

Alex swallowed a very cold flow of saliva. "Do you miss him sometimes? Dad, I mean."

"Well… of course" responded Enzo intently. "All the time. What's this all about? Let's just leave, ma—"

The last word on Enzo's sentence was lost. Suddenly a white stream of fog formed out of thin air and jetted out directly to Enzo, pushing him with enough force to lift him up and knock him back. Alex rushed forward and pinned Enzo on the floor. "Who the hell are you!"

"Alex! What the fuck is wro—"

"My third-grade teacher managed to find out the one that died was my mother, you idiot, I believe my brother would have known too don't you?"

"Damn… okay, listen…" said the impostor in a sulking manner. Alex could feel his body throb beneath his hands. "Let go of me and we can talk."

"Not a chance. Tell me why you are after me."

"Let go first…" Enzo's body started to pulsate even more.

"Who sent you?"

"Take your hands off…"

"Was it Mr. Evans?"

"Don't say I didn't warn you."

The impostor's chest started to wobble, and his eyes became glowing spheres of an electric blue. Before Alex could speak again he found himself pressing a man-sized globule of bluish goo, his hands sinking slowly in it.

"What the!" yelled Alex trying to pull himself away. The substance reeked beyond description, but that was a small hazard in comparison with the sensation it caused on his hands. It felt like they were burning!

When he finally pulled his hands away he was amazed (but relieved) to find them unharmed and without the slightest hint of the substance. Glaring at the "thing" in disgust and contempt, all he could manage to say was "What are you?"

The formless goo was spread through the floor, dividing itself in two smaller blobs that started to rise up to take shapes independently.

When they stopped, a small girl and a boy with a very sick look stood there staring at Alex with their electric blue eyes. Alex couldn't believe what he was seeing. Speechless as he was, he had unconsciously started to back away. The children mocked him with pointed fingers and high-pitched giggles.

"I tried to be nice…" said the girl.

"…I really did" continued the boy.

"But you didn't want to play nice…" the girl pouted.

"…so we'll do it your way!" yelled the boy in excitement.

The girl grinned maliciously, and then said "I am the most…"

"…fucked up thing you have ever seen" the boy finished.

* * *

Notes: I'm still struggling with the first-or-third person dilemma. I'm doing the present in first and the past in third, but I still don't know which one will I keep as the 'main' storytelling style. Any input is greatly appreciated! Speaking of, thanks a lot for the people who review this, and for the e-mails i've been getting. I invite the e-mailers to review here, since it's easier to relate it to the content. Until the next update!

* * *


End file.
